What IS it!? - 37

Morning Friend,

"IT IS WHAT IT IS", has become one of the more popular "catch-phrases" in today's culture.

On one level you could call it the "21st Century Serenity Prayer for Dummies" being as it speaks to acceptance, (if not downright resignation?).

Or you could call it a more polite and politically correct way of saying "SH_T HAPPENS" ?

However you define this quaint little "sound bite", it certainly is a useful tool as an acceptable replacement for actual intelligent insight and as a safe and effective discussion ender.

When posed with a difficult question which requires you to delve deep into your vault of worldly understanding and you find yourself somewhat "wisdom-challenged" on that particular topic, you can quite sagely reply how "it is what it is"....end of story.

You might not have a clue what IT is supposed to be.

You may have no idea whatsoever what IT was.

You may be completely in the dark as to IT's significance on Global affairs, the local economy, or the darned time of day!

Your ignorance about anything and everything IT, is no impediment to your unequivocal and inarguable conclusion that IT is NOTHING ELSE known or otherwise comprehended by mankind, than what "it is".

On the other hand you my know exactly what IT is, but if a full and proper explanation requires some self-effacing revelations, exposure of personal shortcomings or good old fashioned embarrassment, then the prudent course of action is an oversimplified declarative refrain which says everything, and reveals nothing at the same time.

Professional athletes and politicians are great proponents and purveyors of the what-it-is "explanation" for poor performance.

The folksy cliché neatly deletes accountability from the athlete's ineptness or the politician's insincerity, by chalking it up to "things that just ARE"....the team lost, and your tax dollars are in the toilet.

You'll never see ME paying to see them play or voting for them, yet these people keep finding work somewhere !?

But in the sporting arena where luck can be such a large determining factor, and the world of politics where integrity is about as rare as a "perfect game", accountability is no longer expected, let alone required.

A simple "...what it is" will suffice.

But in the everyday world of you and I my friend, I would suggest that many people are unhappy with their lives because this new age "serenity prayer" doesn't include any reference to the all important aspect of COURAGE....the courage to CHANGE.

MISERY, is often the IT in their lives and as the saying goes "misery is misery".

Misery without HOPE...IS misery.

There is always another sporting season and another election down the road, but there is no other earthly life than the one we're in right now.

There was a time in my life when I couldn't even IMAGINE what life would be like without alcohol.

I was what I was.

Thankfully I realized I was what I WASN'T...and that was "meant to drink alcohol".

That realization provided the hope I needed to embark on a new and daunting life that I had previously refused to even think about, let alone TRY!

I Thank God for the courage to have said "Yes it is what it is... but I want to change IT!"

My gratitude always includes hope for others who long for positive change in their lives but who feel impotently resigned by a fearful acceptance that things are as they are and that's all there is to it.

I'm not going to sling the hackneyed line "If I can do it anyone can".

I WILL say that "with God, anyone can".

Because while IT may be, what IT is....it doesn't necessarily have to be.

Unless you're Popeye of course.

love tImMy:/ "ahh-gha-ga-ga....!"

Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live ( accountably)

Campfire Tale - 36

Morning Friend,

I must admit I wussed out and opted out of lifelong tradition of "heading out of town" for the long weekend.

The "May Long", had always been synonymous with "the Outdoors"; and all the freshness and beauty one associates with being cradled in "Mother Nature's Bosom".

And as much as I yearned to luxuriate my Winter-ravaged senses upon it, the bosom was covered in 4 inches of fresh snow...which for the hardy souls who DID go out, must have at least made a fine beer cradle !?

There was a time when you would have had to incarcerate me to keep me in the city on a long weekend.

It just wasn't done.

( I was locked up during a long weekend but that's a story for another day.... "Great Misunderstandings of the 20th Century"? )

For weeks in advance of Great Victoria Day Weekend Hoot, the simmering anticipation could be somewhat contained by fine-tuning your carefully prepared List.

I found an old one of mine in one of my "tickle trunks" of memories....

1. BEER

2. bait

3. RUM

4. wieners

5. WINE

6. marshmallows

7. VODKA

8. beef jerky

9. KALUHA

10. mix

11. SUNDAY BEER

12. ice

From this all-encompassing list of camping essentials, one can plainly see the indelible survivalist instincts I'd garnered through my years in the Cub and Boy Scouts!

I must apologize for the "urbane" inclusion of wieners on the list, but they were STRICTLY for emergency purposes, on the "off chance" that I got too drunk to catch any fish; or be functional enough to try.

In those "heady years", it was enough to throw your rod in the trunk and even if the only light it saw all weekend was when you were digging out beer from underneath it, you could still say you "went fishing".

As far as the WEATHER went....YOU went.

May weather in this part of the world runs the seasonal gamut, so when the calendar said "long weekend" and your friends said "West Hawk", and the forecast said "...chance of flurries...", you said to yourself, " ...long underwear and extra hard stuff....".

In the course of 48-plus hours outdoors, one is imminently bound to experience SOME form of precipitation ranging anywhere from refreshing morning dew...to a tsunami...or a rare but annoying Spring blizzard.

That's what TARPS were made for.

To huddle under in pouring rain and howling wind and drunkenly curse the bad weather which was preventing you from "wetting a line".

The "liquid warmth" carefully planned, listed and packed provides an "internal tarp" that is soon taut and gets tauter with each "tot".

The warmth becomes distilled into something like courage as the lengthening shadows portend the coming of night so blindingly dark that all but the trees fear it.

Here in the "rough part" of Mother Nature's Town... it's "after hours".

It's SURVIVOR...PROVINCIAL CAMPGROUND!!!

There were but few other places where a man's mastery over the elements could be so vividly displayed than when around the blazing fire HE sparked, ( with a little help from a splash of kerosene)....the still night air tinged with mirthful revelry and the strains of Lynrd Skynrd emanating from his 200 watt Pioneer car stereo....the oneness he felt with the universe converged with his double distilled equilibrium, creating a literal "baptism of fire" as he tripped and fell ass-backwards into the very flames of his own making.

Impervious to cold, wet AND fire.... was the TRUE OUTDOORSMAN !

Free from cosmopolitan restraints - like public urinals and personality codes - a properly "outfitted" Woodsman could fully experience, if not remember, the graciousness of God's greenery...the firmament of the Forest...the lusciousness of LIFE!

If the "bosomy cradle" of his bed turned out to be the not quite "pillow-topped" gnarly base of a spruce tree under which he had finally lost consciousness, then he was "roughing it".

If he forgot tomato juice for morning Red-eyes and had to start with straight beer for breakfast than he was REALLY roughing it.

If he ran out of ice and that beer was WARM, then we're talking about a Baden Powell level of camping fortitude !

The advent in recent times of more "family-oriented" campground rules and regulations has really curtailed the long weekend excursions of compromised outdoorsmen in the Parks they and I used to go "camping" in.

And it's probably just as well my friend.

I've had enough of the "rough" stuff.

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live ( "dib-dobbing")

Mother's Day - 35

Morning Friend,

For anyone for whom yesterday was bittersweet, because the "Guest of Honor" was missing, I offer my sincerest hope that she dwells strong in your hearts and remains alive through you, by the life and love she gave to you.

It is with no small measure of pride that I say a Special "good morning" to my youngest "fan"; my 10-year-old niece, Janelle !

At yesterday's wonderful Mother's Day dinner at my brother's place, ( highlighted by enough of Gwen's delicious cannelloni be the Olive Garden's Feature - or my lunches- this week !), the precocious youngster asked, "Are you going to write about this in tomorrow's Musings Uncle Tim?....I read them you know !?".

The first thing that came to my disbelieving mind was "do you understand it?".

Now don't get me wrong, Monday Musings is not "peer-reviewed" by Mensa, and that child is "scary" bright, but I haven't been beset by any freelance offers from TWEEN magazine lately!?

"Oh I understand it Uncle Tim, it's very funny," she said.

"Well.......", said I, adding, "I salute your prodigious proclivity young lady, but I don't actually know what I'm going to write about until I wake up on Monday morning"....( even though I KNEW that somehow, this "exchange" and delightful "revelation" would merit some mention).

It is humbling to the utmost and a tremendous cause for optimism to know that "pop culture" hasn't so completely overtaken the hearts and minds of today's youth, that there is still a little room for simple stories about "winter cycling", "bad hair", "bad habits" and "spiritual redemption".

Not that I'll be warming up the crowd at a Jonas Brothers concert with "Musing riffs" anytime soon, but I am heretofore mindful NOT to underestimate the intellect and social consciousness of children, especially those raised by intelligent and socially conscious MOTHERS!

"Ah-HAH!!", you're saying good friend, "NOW he's gotten to the point!"

And indeed and of course I have.

In my opinion, having a "good" Mother, while not a guarantee, gives any person the best chance to do well in life.

Not that anyone with a "bad" Mom, or without one in their lives haven't done well for themselves but I think history itself invariably reveals the correlation between a Mother's positive influence and the achievements of her offspring.

The Kennedys, had a ROCK for a Mother, while Frankenstein, had no-one.

I haven't won a Pulitzer ( yet), but I'm doing pretty well these days and it's no accident that I happen to have an "excellent" Mom.

While I could fill pages with examples of her excellence, I'll summarize its' essence by saying....throughout my life she has, by her words and actions, consistently demonstrated to me, her unconditional love and support and set an example, which in all good conscience and sensibility I am obliged to uphold, respect and revere.

Which in a nutshell means, if you find me terrorizing a Transylvanian village this week, it's against her better advice.

Not that she wouldn't still love me....THAT I'll know, despite the contrary sentiments of the angry pitchfork-wielding mob.

I happen to have written about that kind of love a year ago for Mother's Day and I think it bears repeating. ( turns out I was "musing" BEFORE I was "Monday Musing"!?)

A Mother's Love by Tim Lawrence

" There is in this cold and hollow world no fount of deep, strong, deathless love,
save that within a mother's heart." FELICIA HEMANS eng. poet ( 1793 - 1835)

I was struck the other day by a quote in the newspaper from a mother whose "gangster"
son had been allegedly murdered while in prison. The young man, who'd lived a violent
and troubled life, had been found in the morning dead in his bunk; a victim of the same
brand of swift and horrific violence he had himself wrought upon society.

The writer's objective litany of the man's offenses left little to be found in the way of
sympathy, short of evoking the "live by the sword...." adage. Who indeed in any right minded society could be reading this story and not be other than thankful for "prison justice" and;
given the incident's proximity to Mother's Day, pitying perhaps for this man's Mom, and whatever might be left of her shredded dignity.

Well, leave it to good old "Mom" herself, to weigh in on the old "adage-invoking train"....
leaving little doubt as to the "fount of her deathless love", when she supposed a measure of
"heroics" upon her boy in what would have been his dying moments.

"It must have taken more that one of them (attackers) to do this," she said, implying facts about her son's death yet unknown. "He was very strong," she added.

I am struck to the core by how this woman - (whose own flesh and blood had seemingly devoted his life to mayhem and murder; all manner of things contrary to what normally evokes pride in one's mother), THIS Mother could still voice something positive about her boy....
that he was "strong".

"To what depths of depravity," I ask myself, " must a son lower himself ? How low must one go to be "under the radar" of a Mother's extraordinary love?"

The answer lies not even in the extreme example of this tragic story....because there is no answer.

It is as mysterious as the gift of life itself which all Mothers bestow upon us.

It is immeasurable....as are the HEIGHTS of a Mother's joy, and dreams, and hopes for her children.

I can say with all certainty, that in the entire history of mankind, very few people who asked themselves, "Would my Mother approve?", then went ahead and make a WRONG decision.

I would urge all sons and daughters on this, and in every other precious day, to take a moment to see yourselves through your Mom's eyes, and you will be struck by how truly special you are, and the wonderful potential you have to make this beautiful world she has brought you into....even more so!

You are stronger that even SHE thinks you are.

God Bless and Happy Mother's Day to You All! Especially my Mom!

Love Tim April,2008

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Does anyone know if Tiger Beat accepts unsolicited submissions?

...from a writer with a "young following"?

Is that magazine still around?

Janelle?.....

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe....

Love as long as you live ( prodigiously)

Green Bananas - 34

Morning Friend,

As the slate-stillness of pre-dawn gives way to a few sparkling beams of sunlight on this FINE Monday morning, I'm hopeful that you are lucky enough to be HALF as happy as I !

Now if you've read enough of these Musings than you know ALL about the "better life" I've found as a SOBER man with the Good Lord as my guide.

On such a beautiful morning after having given thanks through prayer and asked simply for the strength and wisdom to "stay the course for one more day", I'm reminded - as I was quite vividly over the weekend - that for some poor souls....they are very nearly...TOO LATE.

I'm speaking in particular about a fine old gentleman who's a "regular" at the bar where I enjoy shooting pool.

He's not a "close" friend; I've never called him up and don't even know his last name.

He's just one of those half-drunk guys you ALWAYS see in the bar... share a "howzitgoing" and a new joke with AND the invariable "still sober?....Good Man!".

He is, or WAS a tall strapping bloke with a quick wit and a taste for whiskey and cigarettes.

His taste for whiskey and cigarettes hasn't diminished, but in recent weeks I've noticed everything else about him has.

I'm not a doctor, and he's not one of those who tend to share their medical concerns with everyone in the neighborhood, but he is obviously losing physical, mental and spiritual ground. He is dying.

Yes I know WE ARE ALL DYING but the imminence of his end is more dramatically evident.

If you've ever had the terrible experience of witnessing someone's decline and ultimate demise, I've heard a Palliative Care doctor I know describe it as "circling the drain".

ALL of us begin our lives SLOWLY circling in the OUTER water, but as we get closer to the drain, ( older or more ill) the circling becomes faster and faster as we approach "death".

You'll often hear friends and family say in such circumstances, "But I saw him only a WEEK ago and he looked GOOD!?"

The man of whom I speak does NOT look "good" either.

Now my friend, there's "late" and then there's "TOO late".

-You can be a few minutes late for an appointment with a valid excuse.

-You can be late for work but make up for it by staying later.

-You can be a minute late in catching a bus but there's always another after it.

-You can be VERY late as I was in changing my ways and still salvage a worthwhile life.

But when it comes to your HEALTH, there is a specific physiological point where a deadly disease such as cancer takes up residence in the "breeding ground" which excessive drinking and smoking has turned your body into, and you find the slow spin of your circle toward the "drain" hastening.

At that point it is TOO LATE to do anything about it.

There's NO "excuses", valid or otherwise...another bus is NOT coming....and you certainly CANNOT "stay later" to make up for lost time.

The life you once measured in immeasurable hopes and dreams is a finite collage of snapshots of things and events you are likely seeing for the last time.

And while that "addition to the cottage" suddenly takes on a whole new IN-significance, everything else "long term" on your agenda, ( like giving up the "vices") is now off the map... RIGHT?

That's why they have a SMOKING ROOM, and a Doctor's protocol for ordering BOOZE for patients on Palliative Care wards.

Because it's too late...RIGHT?

Having had a "very' bordering on "too" late experience in my own life; I very nearly a poster boy for Liquid PlumR !?, I can honestly say that I'd trade ONE sober day for a thousand drunken ones, and if it happened to be my LAST one, then stay back in the calm water old friend and THROW ME A PADDLE!

My "happy" today is tempered with a prayer for all who suffer, and for my old friend that he might mercifully, before the circle becomes too breathlessly dizzying, find the strength to hurl the shackles of his demise HEADLONG into the maelstrom of fear, and let his last views of this beauteous world be through a vision of clarity...his last breaths be easy and sweet...the last beats of his heart be courageous and joyful... his soul rejoice in God's Peace....that it NOT be, TOO late.

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe

Love as long as you live ( on green bananas)